08/22 Algarve, Portugal

22 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

08/22 Algarve, Portugal


I’m an early riser and that provides advantages.  Like in the morning, there were no lines leading to the showers.  I walked around until breakfast and then took the shuttle down to the beach where I planned to spend that entire day on the sand.  When I reached the bluffs I began exploring.  Jim followed duplicating every picture I took.  It is just better to ignore his competitiveness than to give it thought it doesn’t deserve.  The wind and sea had carved coves into the sandstone and over time had deposited white tongues of pearly white sand against the backdrop of the two blues, sky and sea.  It was like a rose, beautiful but with hidden thorns.  I could see small openings below my feet that lead into the caverns below.  Some dropped a good fifty feet or so, so I backed way carefully.  A backdrop of sun worshipers began migrating to the sand so I sat at its edge   I thought to myself, this is the place.  I’m staying for awhile.  If Jim wanted to fly home, be my guest, cause I’m digging in roots.  The water was cold and the sand was hot.  Between the sun and shade I wasted the day by myself.  The majority of the sun worshippers appeared coupled up.  Occasionally I would gaze upon the topless girls that had all the ingredients of a good daydream.

Besides tying guys to tree there were other forms of excitement, sports.  Behind the hostel’s restaurant games of volleyball and basketball and more popular that the others, soccer.  I watched them and were impressed at the talent displayed.  In the company of the two Swedish girls, we sat down to dinner.  Those two young ladies and I got along so well, it like we had all known one other forever, like I was their older brother.  I guess if I was honest with myself I just hadn’t had that much opportunity to get comfortable dancing and always felt it was in my best interest to avoid embarrassment.  But hey, it was on that night’s agenda and I had a young lady on each arm, so I swallowed my pride.  It worked out to be an absolutely fun evening.  I met a lot of people.  Some were very friendly while others were just trying to get closer to the Swedish girls.

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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